


Pick a Number, Any Number

by fansofcollisions



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, daichi's got a crush, suga's got a secret, the stuffed animal may or may not have a vendetta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fansofcollisions/pseuds/fansofcollisions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s hideous. Repulsive, even. It makes Daichi want to curl up into a pretzel of existential horror.</p>
<p>“I call him ‘Bear’,” says Suga, smiling fondly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick a Number, Any Number

**Author's Note:**

> For Daisuga Week, Day 6. Prompt: Fluff. I chose to interpret the prompt rather literally :)

It’s hideous. Repulsive, even. It makes Daichi want to curl up into a pretzel of existential horror.

“I call him ‘Bear’,” says Suga, smiling fondly.

This isn’t the first time Daichi’s been to Suga’s house, but it is his first time in Suga’s room. His fantasies of this moment didn’t involve sharing the precious space on the bed with a ragged monstrosity of a stuffed animal, nearly a metre long and staring with cold, red eyes at the opposite wall. Its stuffing leaks from the cracked lesions around its neck and on the soles of its feet. A thin mouth of decaying thread curves into a grotesque smile: a leer that makes Daichi want to slither beneath Suga’s desk and possibly drop a match and gasoline on his way down.

“My parents got him for me when I was eight.” Suga pats the abomination’s head and hops off the bed to grab a notebook from his shelf. Daichi hasn’t worked out if it’s really supposed to be a bear or Suga just calls it that for its abnormal size. Either way, the name is disturbingly fitting. “He was probably bigger than me at that point.” The thought of a sweet childish Suga curled up next to this seed of the devil makes Daichi’s hackles raise. Would his friend ever forgive him for tossing his favourite stuffed animal out a second floor window?

He decides not to risk it. At least not till he has hard proof of the creature’s malevolence.

“Is it- Can we-” He gestures with uncertain hands at the space between them.

“Oh!” Suga laughs and tosses Bear onto the floor. “Sorry, yeah. Hard to see if he’s up here with us.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Daichi inches closer so he can see Suga’s book. “Now, calculus, right?”

\---

Sugawara leaves to get them some water after half an hour’s study, which means Daichi is alone. Well, as alone as he can get with something like that staring at you.

It’s just a stupid stuffed… something. He’s a pretty strong, decently brave man. Time to show Bear who’s the boss around here.

He gets off the bed and approaches his opponent, crouching low until he’s at freakishly-red eye level. Bear glares coolly back, the arrogance and disdain radiating in his expression.

What on earth could Suga like in this thing? He pats its head gently, ready to snatch his hand back the moment it bares fangs. Rough fur. Hard. Not at all comforting.

He pushes a finger into its stomach.

Prod. Prod.

Barely any give there either. So it’s not even squishy? He doesn’t get it at all.

Drawn by some twisted compulsion, he starts tugging with his finger at one of the rips along the neck seam.

“Got some snacks- what are you doing?”

Daichi scrambles back, slamming his neck into the baseboard of the bed behind him. “Ow…”

Suga quickly sets the tray on the desk and drops down to his knees beside Daichi, who feels his face start to turn red. “Are you ok?”

Daichi nods, rubbing the base of his skull with his palm. “Sorry. Just dropped my pencil on the floor.” Suga gives him a strange look but doesn’t inquire further.

The room is silent, but Bear’s laughter echoes through the air all the same.

\---

By the next time Daichi comes over, feelings that started as a few hastily suppressed ‘what ifs’ have burst through the thin-twigged shelter of his denial and blossomed into a glorious, life-consuming, _agonizing_ crush. Suga has no idea that as he waters the cactus on the windowsill Daichi’s already thought of a thousand scenarios for the first kiss he doesn’t truly believe will ever happen. In the fading sunlight with the smell of earth on his hands is number one thousand and one. He makes sure to shutter out the pained look in his eyes before Suga turns around.

“Fruit or candy?”

“Whatever you’d prefer.”

It’s the little things. The way the sugar sticks to the top of Suga’s lip, how he’d rather use his pant leg as serviette than grab a tissue from two feet away, the light tap of a pencil against his teeth as he considers a challenging problem. He falls in love all over again to the rhythm of the cheesy pop music from the radio on the shelf, to the way Suga’s hair falls in his eyes when he bends to check the index of a textbook, to the bend of his strong fingers and the curve of his shoulders and the warmth of his smile.

He can’t seem to stop himself staring, so of course Suga catches him. “What?” he asks, and raises his head. They’ve somehow shifted so that their knees rest together, a constant source of heat, setting off sparks in Daichi’s chest.

Number one thousand and two. Sheltered in the safety of Suga’s room, spread across sheets of numbers and graffitied textbooks. Three more inches: just a slight sway forward. Barely any distance at all.

It doesn’t feel so impossible.

He puts his hand past Suga on the bed, leaning in-

Something smacks him in the back of the skull and he faceplants into Suga’s shoulder, missing his lips by a good berth. “Wo-!” Suga has only a moment to screech before they both collapse onto the mattress, their bouncing tossing several hours of revision onto the floor.

He can barely hold back a curse as he opens his eyes to see Bear, rear in the air against the wall and still managing to leer even upside down. Apparently his shifting knocked the damn thing over.  

“Ah… Dai-Daichi?” Hands are pressing insistently against his shoulders. “You’re _heavy_ ,” Suga gasps. Red-faced, he pushes himself up on his elbows so that his weight isn’t totally resting on Suga’s chest.

“Sorry.”

They both sit up. He’s still half straddling Suga’s legs, but disentangling them would require either moving the giant stuffed animal or him stepping onto their revision notes, so he opts for the more awkward positioning for the time being.

Suga chuckles. “He’s a menace, isn’t he?” He ruffles – as much as one can ruffle something that coarse and stiff – Bear’s fur affectionately. His face seems rather flushed as well.

“Why hasn’t your mother thrown him out?” He can’t hold back the question. He’s sure his own mother would have tossed anything that old and beat-up in the trash years ago.

Suga’s eyes drift far away. “I just like him,” he says. “Reminds me of being a kid, I guess.”  Daichi gets the sense there’s something else he’s not saying, but he’s not going to press, especially after making such a mess of his friend’s room. He’s been rude enough for one day.

Daichi sighs and gingerly reaches his foot over the edge of the bed, trying to find a place to put it that won’t crumple anything. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get up the courage again to try what he just tried. As far as he’s concerned, that makes Bear public enemy number one.

\---

He _almost_ spills a bowl of hot soup on top of Bear once. Almost. A total accident, of course. Besides, who in their right mind serves their guest _soup_ while fully intending to eat on a bed?

The way that Suga clings to the stuffed animal, happy and relieved at its safety makes Daichi stupidly, ridiculously jealous, and he almost spills his milk on Bear just for spite. But the look on Suga’s face tells him it would break his heart.

He can’t understand what Suga sees in the thing.

\---

They’re all piled on a tour bus, and Daichi half expects to see Bear’s ugly head peeping out of Suga’s overnight bag as he shoves it into the luggage compartment. He’s never been so pleased to be proved wrong.

\---

Finally, they’ve made it to Tokyo. Karasuno’s administration was so proud, the school even sprung for motel accommodations. Nothing fancy: the sheets are scratchy and the pillows are thin, and everyone else is stuck four to a room, but as captain and vice-captain at least Daichi and Suga get their own.

Tomorrow’s the day. They’ll finally regain their former glory. Karasuno will have its pride back, and he’ll have done it with his best friends in the whole world. Daichi feels like howling through the streets, which is a strange sensation since that’s usually more Tanaka’s thing, but right now he’s getting that nervous energy building up in the pit of his stomach and he wants to _move_.

Rather than tearing his clothes off, he settles for a few push-ups, Suga watching in amusement as he sits cross-legged on his bed.

“That’s not a good idea. You won’t be able to sleep.”

“Just- gotta-” _pant_ “-get it _out._ ” He collapses onto the floor, feeling a few beads of sweat drip down between his shoulders.

“It’s half past eleven. Time for bed.”

“Yes, mom.”

He flashes a grin in Suga’s direction, but from on high Suga frowns down at him.

“I’m being serious.”

What’s that look, nervousness? Where’s that easy smile?

“I’ll take a shower and then bed, I promise.”

He stands and starts to make his way towards the bathroom, but turns at the last minute. Daichi puts a hand on Suga’s shoulder. “We’re gonna be great. We’re going to _win_.” He sounds more confident than he feels. That’s good. He’s going to have to be fearless tomorrow, for the team, no matter how many butterflies are rattling around inside of him.

Without thinking, he slides his hand up and ruffles Suga’s hair. With his hand just like this, he could-

“Hey!” Suga exclaims, swatting his hand away. Daichi snatches it back and runs into the bathroom before his face has a chance to fully flush.

The shower does him good, and he comes back feeling refreshed and calmed (and with his senses back intact). Suga’s already curled up in his own bed with the lights dimmed, reading a book.

“Don’t tell me you’re studying,” he teases. Suga’s eyes flick up to him, but he doesn’t respond.

He tosses his damp towel across a chair and sits down on his own bed. “You should go to sleep too,” he chides. “We need you just as rested as me.”

“I know.” Suga closes the book and places it deliberately on the end table. His mouth is a thin white line in the dimness, lips pursed into an indecipherable expression.

“You okay?” he asks. He’s certainly spacing about something.

Suga lets out a breathy laugh, only half sincere. “Just a bit nervous. Night, Daichi.” And with that he rolls over and draws the blanket over his shoulders.

That was… abrupt.

“Night,” he murmurs back and flicks off the lamp. The crack between the curtains lets in the faintest trace of light, just enough for him to spot the rapid rise and fall of Suga’s shoulders once his eyes adjust. He tries to wait for them to slow, wanting to catch the moment he falls into sleep, but his own exhaustion wins out and his eyes close without his permission, and he’s out before he’s even registered the darkness.

\---

The roar of a nearby train, no doubt compounded by the jitters of the night before, startles Daichi out of his sleep. He fights the wakefulness for as long as he can before admitting defeat and opening his eyes. The red light of the digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s half past two in the morning. He squints at the number and barely supresses a groan. He can’t be awake right now. If he goes into this tournament with four hours sleep, they’re all screwed.

Maybe a glass of water would help. He sits up, trying to not wake Suga with the creaking of the bedsprings.

Which apparently won’t be a problem, since Suga’s bed is empty.

Suddenly Daichi feels very, very much awake. He glances towards the door to see if Suga’s shoes are still there. They are. Bathed in the golden light creeping from underneath the bathroom door. Relief floods through him. Maybe Suga getting up to use the toilet was the real reason he was awake. That would be fine. He’s just good he didn’t slip out for a late-night stroll. That would probably get Suga suspended if anyone from the school found out, not to mention how little Daichi wanted to go out looking for him at this time of night.

He decides to wait till the bathroom’s free to get his glass of water. But the electric display creeps to 2:42 and Suga doesn’t emerge. He doesn’t even hear the sound of running water.

Worry starts to overtake him as the minutes pass, and finally he throws off the covers and walks to the bathroom door and knocks lightly.

“Suga?” he whispers. No response. He tests the door handle. It’s not locked. “Suga, I’m coming in…”

The door swings inward. Once Daichi’s eyes stop smarting from the glare, he can discern a bleary eyed Suga slouched against the shower door, one hand dangling a book loosely over his knee.

“S-sorry,” Suga stammers, blinking furiously. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost three in the morning!” he hisses. “What the hell are you doing up?”

“Just…” Suga seems lost. He glances around the tiny room, eyes finally focusing on Daichi’s bare feet. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Wait. “You haven’t slept at _all_?” Suga pauses, then shakes his head.

Daichi runs a hand through his hair. This isn’t good. He _needs_ Suga on his best game tom- _today_ , and a sleep deprived setter isn’t going to cut it. Plus, the dark circles underneath his eyes, so clear in the fluorescent light, make Daichi’s heart ache. Suga is exhausted, it’s plain to see. Why wouldn’t he just go to bed?

“Come on,” he says, pulling Suga up by the arm. “You’re going to get a few hours at least, captain’s orders.”

Suga stumbles after him back into the bedroom, mumbling something beneath his breath. “What?”

Suga repeats it. “No point.”

“Huh?”

“I won’t be able to sleep.” He looks miserable. “Can’t.”

“Why not?”

Suga rubs his hand across his eyes, which does nothing to erase the blue-grey circles there. “Forget it,” he says, a little more alert.

“No, hey!” Daichi grabs his arm again, pulling him closer. “Don’t give me that. You can tell me anything, right?”

His eyes are starting to adjust again after being thrown off by the brightness of the bathroom light, enough that he can see way Suga bites his lip before he speaks. “-S’embarrasing,” he mutters.

“Don’t care.”

Suga takes a deep, rattling breath. “When I was a kid, I had no trouble sleeping. Then when I was eight, I started having terrible nightmares. They didn’t stay for very long, but after that I couldn’t get to sleep at all. My parents were really worried.” He smiles half-heartedly. “Not until Bear.”

… Oh. He feels a little bad for the animosity now.

“After that, I could only fall asleep when I was holding him. I can sometimes make do with some pillows, or- but there’s nothing like that here.” He shrugs. “I tried really hard, I swear I did, Daichi, but I _can’t_. It just doesn’t happen unless I’m holding onto something.” He laughs, but it sounds strained. “You must think I’m really childish.”

“No!” Well yes, a little, but also… “It’s kind of cute.” He wants to smack himself in the face the moment the words leave his mouth, but Suga laughs again and it’s more sincere this time.

“Better than pathetic, I guess.”

“Hey. I’d never think that about you.” He squeezes Suga’s wrist.

It’s quarter past three. They both need some sleep. He’s the captain. He specializes in solving problems for his team. This is by far _not_ the strangest thing he’s had to deal with this year.

“I know I’m not as-” _terrifying_ “-familiar as Bear, but I’m kind of big and… stuff?” Sawamura Daichi, the smoothest sailor in town. “Could you hold onto me? Would that work?”

“Umm.” Crap. That was a step too far, wasn’t it? Oh god, even though he likes Suga he wasn’t doing this just to cop a feel, it was honestly the best idea he could come up with, bar ordering a bag of towels from the front desk- “Ok.”

Daichi blinks. Suga smiles sheepishly at the floor. “That… might work. If you’re ok with that?”

He lightly cuffs his ear. “I’m the one offering, stupid.”

Still holding onto his wrist with his other hand, Daichi leads them to Suga’s bed and sits them down. He tries not to let the trembling in his heart descend into any shaking in his hands. He has to be cool here. The only point is for them both to get some rest. No ulterior motives. No thinking about how Suga’s hair spells like ginseng from his shampoo, or the dark blue t-shirt that’s been worn so often it’s as soft as cashmere, or the way his eyelashes flutter as Suga settles down beside him. He rolls so that his back is to the rest of the room, chest only inches from Suga’s.

“How do we-“ he starts, but cuts himself off sharply. The ball’s in Suga’s court, so to speak. He’ll let him make the first move.

Suga tentatively raises a hand and puts it on Daichi’s waist. “Move closer,” he whispers, and Daichi stops breathing. He shifts a little more till Suga’s arm is draped across him, fingertips trailing the space between his shoulder blades. His own arm moves instinctively to rest on Suga’s hip, mirroring the action.

“Can you… lift your head, a little?” He does, and Suga slips his other arm beneath it, curling his fingers into the neck of Daichi’s shirt. “Sorry,” he says. “I hope this isn’t uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” It’s uncomfortable, alright, but mostly because Suga’s lips are right there, pale and half open and shadowed beneath a cute nose and bedhead and sleepy eyes and Daichi thinks he’s the most kissable he’s ever looked, and it’s physically painful to keep this small distance between them when every other part of their bodies are touching.

He can’t do this. He can’t keep staring into these eyes and not do something he’ll regret, so he draws Suga in instead, pulling him tight till light hair is tickling the underside of his chin and he can feel damp breath pulsing in and out against his collarbone. “Is this ok?”

Suga makes a pleasured _mmm_ sound and Daichi dies just a little bit inside. Even if Suga will get some sleep this way, he’s certainly not going to be anytime soon. Forget the tournament. He wants to memorize every little bit of how this feels.

“Daichi?” The name is slowly pronounced, barely more than a breath against his chest.

“Mmhmm?”

Suga pulls his head away from Daichi’s chest and looks him in the eyes. _Too close._ “Thank you,” he slurs out, words lazy with the tiredness that’s finally overtaken him.

“Anytime,” he says, and Suga smiles and closes his eyes.

Just as Daichi thinks he’s finally dropped off, Suga strains his neck upwards to brush their lips together. Within moments, his breathing hollows out and he’s asleep.

Too early in a foreign room, legs and arms all tangled in a pile, the smell of cheap motel soap and laundry detergent. Sleepy eyes and clinging hands. This isn’t a number. He never saw it coming. This one didn’t even make the list. Never, in a million years, could Daichi have envisioned that Suga would be the one to kiss _him_.

Somehow, that’s even better.

\---

They win nationals, and Daichi sweeps Suga up into a spin in the locker room and kisses him hard, oblivious to the catcalls of their teammates, drunk on happiness and the fact that Suga’s eyes are just as bright as his when he finally puts him down.

Number one. It’s every bit as perfect as he imagined.


End file.
